I could no longer see through my tears.

Then the last paragraph.

And Mom, please don’t make her into me. She isn’t a replacement son in a different body. She’s Maya. She has her own mother, her own life, and her own future. But she is my sister. If you can someday know her, I’d like that. If you can’t right away, I understand.

The final line:

I love you more than I know how to write. I’m sorry I left you one more truth to carry after I was gone.

I folded over the paper.